You can put it on my tab
by Cereal-Killa
Summary: "You are an ass. Leave me alone." I mutter. He simply winks and takes a drag of his cigarette. "I'm not half bad once you know me. Or so I think. I simply believe you to be an utter killjoy." My eye twitch is inevitable. D/C one-shot collection
1. You can put it on my tab

**-You can put it on my tab-**  
><em>one shot for you guys. I haven't done one in a bit so I decided… why not now? :) precious one right here, too. I was in one of my moods… you know, the ones that make me all fluffy and stuff. Reviews are definitely loved.<em>

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><p>"I'll pay for that."<p>

Yes, that was the first time we met. He, with his azure eyes and me, with my empty wallet. He had been standing behind me, muttering about mocha v. java when I found myself cleaned out. And I really wanted that cappuccino…

I didn't deny his paying for me but I also did not say thank you. I didn't need anybodies help. But he didn't ask for my number. He didn't ask for me to sit with him. He just smirked at me and parted the shop with the words, "You're welcome, Princess."

No, I didn't appreciate the nickname.

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><p>The next time was in a sub shop.<p>

I wanted fresh squeezed lemonade. This time, I had scrapped up enough money. Before I could hand the bills to the attendant, he steps in front of me. "Put it on my tab." He speaks, and the man nods at him.

So he has a tab here, I think. So he has done this for other women, I think.

This time, he sits with me. A lazy grin works at his face as I wait for him to say some cheesy pick up line or mention the money somehow.

"You know, you are rather lovely for someone so odd."

I raise a brow and hide my blush. "I'm odd?" I begin. "You are the odd ball, paying for all of my things. I didn't ask for your help."

"Doesn't mean you didn't need it." He offers. I stiffen. He simply chuckles at me.

He leaves with that same smirk. "Until next time, Princess." The growl is out of my throat before I can restrain myself.

* * *

><p>It's at a bar when it happens again.<p>

The ass had gotten there before me. I tried to act casual. But when my drink comes and they don't take the money I've sat on the table, the bartender points to the stools. "A young fellow said to give you whatever you want. It's on his tab."

It's been three months since the last time I saw him at the sub shop. You would have thought he had forgotten my face. But no. He is still smirking at me.

He comes to sit by me, and we chat for a moment.

"You are an ass. Leave me alone." I mutter.

He simply winks and takes a drag of his cigarette. "I'm not half bad once you know me. Or so I think. I simply believe you to be an utter killjoy."

My eye twitch is inevitable. His laugh rings through the air like bells.

* * *

><p>He had me in bed by midnight.<p>

Yes, we slept together after that night in the bar. It didn't take much. I don't feel proud about that fact.

But I don't regret the sex.

Oh, no, I never, ever… ever regretted that.

I wake up to find him sitting on the edge of the bed in slacks, shirtless, a cigarette dangling from his lips as he looks over some papers.

He has on glasses. It's odd.

That's when I finally take in our surroundings. It was dark the night before so I didn't get a chance. But now, I could see that the bed was huge. The room was huge. The view from the floor to ceiling window was magnificent.

Oh dear god, I think. He's filthy rich.

He turns to see me awake and smirks. "Morning, love." He starts, before reaching for me. "I must tell you… you are a spectacular romp." He merely chuckles as I hiss in his arms.

* * *

><p>I did not want him to know the truth about me.<p>

Duncan was different. He was successful, but he was kind. He was quiet, but he never made things awkward. He teased me, but he still called me beautiful.

He was an unusual specimen. But I enjoyed it. Very much so.

But I was not.

I was not well off. Working in a cubical and eating fast food was the best I could do. College sucked away nearly all my funds and attending classes made it hard to find time to sleep. I was a kid. Still only twenty. Still not understanding the world.

And I just didn't want him to realize that. Not yet.

* * *

><p>We are in the store when I first laughed at him.<p>

He was buying milk because the last time we woke up in bed I had been a bit on edge because I had to eat my Cheerio's dry. He is telling me about how his business is doing good, but that his secretary, a sad little fellow named Harold, is a bit of an ass hat at times.

"Always blundering on about nonsense instead of checking the accounts or answering phone calls. He blathers like a woman." I no longer take offense to comments like these due to the fact that Duncan says I am not like other women. I don't talk much, he says. I am not kindly fake like them, he says. I'm much more stubborn than most, he says.

"He's your secretary, and a colleague… you should beg him some pardon…" I say, and he frowns. I can't help but feel the corner of my mouth jerk up.

He's adorable when he pouts.

"Colleague, of course. He's eight years younger than me, for Christ sake."

"How old is he?"

"Same as you." He knows I've caught him! It's obvious by the way his mouth shuts like a fly trap as soon as the words leave his mouth.

"You're 28! Oh my lord!" Duncan has yet to tell me his age up to this point, and refuses to tell me. He claimed that I would find him-

"Old!" I chuckle. "You're so old! Almost 30!"

He scowls as I hang on to his arm, but I can sense the warmth that goes to his face when I tell him that it doesn't matter to me how old he is to me. It doesn't change the fact that he's my favorite person.

* * *

><p>He continued to pay for everything.<p>

Rather traditional, really, which was odd for him. He insisted that he pay, and it left me to wonder if he did it out of respect for a lover or simply if he assumed I was poor. He wouldn't have been wrong, anyhow.

But he did not figure out that I was in such bad shape until he surprised me.

We were in that same bar, simply going on about useless things, when he flips a coin. "What are you doing?" I roll my eyes when he winks.

"Heads… we get married."

I feel my blood run hot. Married?

"Tails… you move in."

He flips. He looks at me from under his lashes and exposes the coin. "Looks like your moving in."

I can't determine if I am disappointed or not with the outcome of the coin. Did I want to get married?

But I don't say no to him asking me to move in. It's been six months and it makes sense.

He asks for my address. I stiffened. I gave it to him anyway but decided I would just have a friend help me with the moving next weekend.

* * *

><p>But when I wake up in his bed the next morning, he isn't there. I get a bowl of cereal and sit on the expensive couch in his ridiculously large living room with the ridiculously large plasma.<p>

He told me once that this house was a bit lonely with just him and his work. He didn't say anything but simply touched my cheek and kissed my eyelids. I like to think maybe he isn't so lonely anymore. I know I wasn't.

I have already passed out on the couch when he gets back.

And when I see all the moving men bringing in boxes, I am beyond pissed.

He pulls me into another room due to my rage and tries to calm me down. It doesn't work. "You packed up my shit without me? You incredulous, abominable imbecile!"

"I just wanted to get you in here soon sweet heart."

"You couldn't have waited a few hours?" I yell.

He narrows his eyes. "I don't see what the big deal is, Princess, why are you so worked up?"

"I didn't want you to see where I lived, that's why." I mutter, feeling my face heat up. I turn away from him for fear of pity or something equaling demeaning to my pride. "I didn't want you to see my home. It was horrid. Awful… I just…"

"Courtney," he says softly, grabbing my hand and kissing a finger, "Courtney, look at me." He's using my name. I look up. I'm getting choked up.

His eyes are half lidded yet open. "Your home is wherever you wish it to be. Here… somewhere… anywhere." He smiles at me, not a smirk. "I'll do anything you want me to do. Be whatever you need me to be."

"But why?" I'm crying. It hurts. I realize, it's been years since I've cried like this.

Since I've cried at all.

"Because that's what you do for the one you are in love with, Courtney." I feel my limbs turn to jelly. Now I'm crying even more. "Because I love you, Princess… anything you need, anytime you need it, you can put it on my tab."

So this is what it feels like, I think. This is what they talk about, I think. Being in love is not like I thought it would be.

Instead, it's like being reborn.

* * *

><p>He still pays for things. He would pay for everything if I didn't get on him for not letting me have the least bit of pride.<p>

He paid for the ring too.

And the hospital bill when the baby was born.

And, that idiot, my idiot, still says the same damn thing every time we go out to eat, no matter if he has one or not- "Put it on my tab."

I'm almost positive he only does it because he thinks it will make me smile.

And I never disappoint.

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><p>-end-<p> 


	2. Ain't like you to hold back

**-Ain't like you to hold back-**  
><em>decided to write another oneshot. this is going to be a collection, I guess. mostly for my sappy or not exactly comedic stuff. I can't help it. One shots speak to me~ please review and give any requests you'd like. 3 btw, happy new year!<em>

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><p>When we were little, he was the only one who would wait.<p>

I had no friends at the tender age of five. But Duncan waited at the bus stop anyway. Everyone else took the early bus. But he was always there, when I came down the street, breath heaving as I fought to make it in time for the late bus.

He woke up early, too. I knew he could catch the early one if he wanted to.

But for the eleven years we rode the bus, he waited.

He waited for me. In more ways than one.

* * *

><p>He was probably my best friend. And then he kissed me. So you know how those things go.<p>

* * *

><p>Maybe having sex at the age of fifteen wasn't my best idea.<p>

Duncan shifted in his sleep next to me. Unlike him, I wasn't lucky enough to fall asleep. I was instead plagued with my thoughts, pulling the covers tighter over my naked body.

So. My first sexual experience had been when I was fifteen. It happened in Duncan's bed at 11:32 pm. His parents weren't home so we thought it'd be smart to do this while we had the chance. It was now 11:45 and he was sound asleep.

I wondered if you were supposed to fumble with a condom that much. And if it was supposed to feel like that. Isn't sex supposed to be mind blowing? Aren't you supposed to feel different?

Because I didn't. I was still Courtney. And Duncan's snore couldn't have been any more unromantic at the moment. But obviously, I mean, during... he had tried. Neither one of us said anything like 'oh fuck' or 'you're so tight' but we breathed really hard and made strange noises.

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm pretty sure I had sounded like a whale.

But Duncan had looked at me the whole time. It was weird, the eye contact... but it was familiar. I've known Duncan since I was five. He's been my boyfriend for a year now. And even when we having sex, I could still see the small hints of a smirk on his lips...

He's stupid. I know. And he wasn't very good at sex. It was his first time, obviously, but who am I to judge? I probably didn't make it any more enjoyable.

Even though I'm not a different person and I don't feel much different, it's still floating around in my head. Duncan and I had sex.

I didn't know whether to cheer in pride or duck my head in shame.

* * *

><p>Anyway, guys lie. Duncan said he wouldn't tell anyone, but I'm pretty sure everyone knew we'd done the dirty about a week after we did. I never questioned him about it.<p>

* * *

><p>When I was seventeen, I think that was my craziest year. I really thought I had it all figured out. Truth is I didn't know a damn thing.<p>

"...And then we can move in together after college?"

Duncan smirked. "Of course."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

And I was pretty sure he meant it. I'll never be sure. I'm not Duncan myself, I don't know what was going on in his head.

But I like to think that the look he was giving me was one of love. I imagine it's how I looked when I looked at him.

* * *

><p>He said "I love you" first.<p>

I said it back. I should have said them more.

But I thought it would be like this forever. I was a kid. I didn't care where we went, as long as I was with him. And back then, hope was enough. Believing it was good enough for the both of us.

* * *

><p>Too bad we didn't count on reality.<p>

* * *

><p>When the call came from Duncan's mother, I screamed. My parents came to calm me but I didn't stop. I was eighteen. I had just graduated with Duncan by my side. But now, it was all pain.<p>

They say my screams had been bloodcurdling, borderline insane ones. That I yelled and kicked and cursed.

And to this day, my bother claims he has never seen a person look as broken as I did in that moment.

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><p>Geoff tried to explain. I knew it wasn't his fault, but I exploded on him anyway. "I wish it had been you!" I was lying. I didn't actually wish that.<p>

I just wished anything that what had actually happened.

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><p>It's called a DOA.<p>

The semi was bigger than Duncan's old Chevy. It had been raining. And we'll never know whose fault it really was.

I didn't give Duncan up. I didn't get a chance. I lost him. And I couldn't get him back.

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><p>It's been forty years and he's still with me.<p>

Sometimes I'll see green and turn like my life depended on it. His little sister used to talk to me, but when we would meet up, it always hurt. She had that same smirk, those same eyes.

My husband is a good man. I really am in love with him, as I love my three children and one grandson.

I'm old now.

But I believe when I go, he'll be waiting. Just like he always did. Standing at a bus stop, smirking slightly as his eyes twinkle when he catches sight of me.

And I'll take his hand. It'll be like we promised.

It'll be just us against the world again.

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><p><em>Nothing compares, no worries or cares,<em>

_Regret and mistakes, they're memories made_

_Who would have know how bittersweet this would taste?_

_Never mind I'll find someone like you_

_I wish nothing but the best for you too_

_Don't forget me, I beg, I'll remember you said_

_Sometimes it lasts in love, but sometimes it hurts instead_.

-someone like you - adele

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><p>-fin-<p> 


	3. And i'm gonna steal yours too

**-And i'm gonna steal yours too-**  
><em>jesus freaking gosh. currently typing this from my goddamned phone, and yes, i typed this whole damn thing from my phone. FROM. MY. PHONE. had to send it to my freakin' email and i'm posting at school, but lord knows when its going to post since the computers are slow are shit. -fuck- and i am currently still freaking out because guys, my fuckin' dad is in the fucking hospital and i don't know what to do and i just can't even. just bear with me because my updating is going to be like total bullshit for the next few months because this is just bad. PLEASE DON'T GET MAD! I am going to try my best but I've been at my older brothers place for the past week and i just don't even have it in my heart to write fanfiction. i wrote this real quick after watching Bridesmaids cuz she was baking and shit.<em>

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><p>Maybe it all started when she first borrowed my flour.<p>

At least, that's what I like to think. Considering the fact that she had been living next to me for over a year and we had yet to say more than two words to each other, flour was a reasonable place to start.

It had been eleven thirty in the night when an obnoxious fist pounded at my door. Me, with a left over head cold from Tuesday, simply growled and raised out of my chair, walking to the door and muttering curses as I did so.

To say that she was beautiful was an understatement.

A small apron and a short faded blue summer dress, bare foot and all, big brown eyes pierced at me behind short dainty hair. "I was wondering if I could borrow your flour."

I had blinked. Oddly enough, even though I was a 24 year old male living on my own, I did have flour. "Yeah," I said, walking slowly to the kitchen and rummaging through the cabinets.

I jumped when I heard her small voice. "Well, hurry up then! I haven't got all night." I turned to see that she had followed me into the kitchen, meaning she had walked through my door, uninvited. "I have a potluck at work tomorrow and they'll kick my ass if I don't make anything."

Her nose scrunched when she looked at me. A small crinkle, barely noticeable.

I loved it.

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><p>The next time, she needed ground cinnamon.<p>

"They want me to make snicker doodles, now. They're all so needy, such asking women who won't eat what I make any way for fear of gaining a few pounds. Just because I own a bakery doesn't mean I have to cater to them."

"You own a bakery?" I asked, surprised. She had been sitting on my counter, legs crossed, her yellow sun dress half hidden beneath her apron. And again, she was bare foot.

Her dark eyes crossed my blue ones. "I used to." She spoke softly, no pride in her voice but her eyes told a different story.

It was hard to doubt her. Even when she was obviously down about something, she had that look that told me she never planned on even spitting near that point in life called rock bottom.

* * *

><p>By the end of the third month, I had bought every spice known to man.<p>

She asked me for everything- bay leaf, onion powder, nutmeg, even cream of tartar, which had taken me ages to find at the local market. I spent half of my earnings on spices and foods. And then she asked for something bigger.

I opened my door to find her standing with a box, a much too small box.

A dreaded pink slip hung out of her pocket.

"Can I borrow a room?" She said, voice weak and cheeks stained with tears. Her teeth clenched at her lip as she made eye contact with me.

You would think that her eyes would be downcast and beaten. But they were everything but.

* * *

><p>I don't know how it happened, but soon, it was normal to wake up and find Courtney on the couch. I would yawn, go to the kitchen, take some cereal out of the cabinet, and then she would be there, as though she had been beckoned. "Don't eat that trash." She would say, and then she would tie her apron around her. "I'm fixing breakfast."<p>

And I would go to my room, get dressed and ready, and find bacon, an omelet and orange juice waiting for me. She would stand there, eyes full of pride, and gesture for me to sit down and eat. "Well, go on now. Don't tell me it doesn't taste good."

It was a joke, because what she made always tasted good. Everything was spiced to perfection, never burnt or cold. I would always eat it, down my drink and sigh tiredly. "Needs salt."

I could only laugh when she whapped the side of my head.

* * *

><p>Then, all of a sudden, she wasn't sleeping on the couch, but in my bed.<p>

We never officially spoke of it but it was customary for her to brush her teeth, get ready, and then slip into bed with me. She would argue with me for five minutes before giving me a quick snog and telling me to shut up before she beat me with a frying pan.

I can't say I wasn't a fan of the new arrangement.

* * *

><p>When she kissed me, it wasn't sweet or generous. It was rough, both of our lips chapped and our bodies hard against the others.<p>

She trashed when I would enter her, always blinking back tears as she let out these small sounds that made my cock twitch inside of her.

And she tasted like cupcakes.

Every damn time.

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><p>One day, when she was cooking, she turned to me with a dark grimace, her eyes tired. "I need a new job. I feel like a house maid."<p>

"I can't fathom why, Princess. Ya don't clean shit."

Hissing, she seethed at me from over the counter. "Go fuck yourself."

It was quiet for a while but when she sat the plate down in front of me, I spoke softly. "A job sounds nice. Ya could work at restaurant, cook a little for someone other than me."

She shifted on her two bare feet. "Possibly."

* * *

><p>I can't tell you how long I saved up for it. I probably started saving a few dollars from my paycheck before I even knew what I was doing, before she had ever come to live with me and was simply just borrowing my flour.<p>

Pushing her down the sidewalk, she was fidgety. "Can I take it off now, please?" She stiffened, trying to tear off the blindfold.

"Yes, you impatient woman." She growled but it faded as she ripped the cloth away, staring in front of her.

"What is this?" She muttered blankly.

I shrugged. "Happy Birthday."

"My birthday isn't for another three months, you imbecile."

I shrugged again. "Didn't know. Happy early Birthday, then."

She stared up at the building. It was one floor, bigger than my apartment, and said 'Court's Cupcakes', the sign faded but still there.

All she did was snort and then walk away.

* * *

><p>She was gone for two weeks.<p>

I was in a bad spot, then. I don't like remembering it. All I know is that I didn't eat anything other than fast food. I just wasn't ready to step into my kitchen.

I probably never would be.

And then there was a knock at the door. The same dark eyes and bare feet stood in front of me, eyes watery. "Can I borrow some damn flour?"

I felt a smirk stretch across my downcast face. "Anytime, Princess."

To this day I can still remember the feeling of holding her that entire night, kissing her and feeling a lone tear slip down my cheek, whispering sweet nothings to her until we both finally fell asleep.

* * *

><p>She sat on the counter, rolling her eyes as she swung her bare feet at me. "And now, here I am again, baking for my friend because it's her baby shower and I guess her food cravings are out the nutshell. Why do they always look to me? I know I own a bakery, but it's not as though I should have to cater to them or something."<p>

"You own a bakery?" I said, smirking. "Never would have guessed."

Narrowing her eyes, she kissed me softly before hopping off the counter. "Oh shut up, you."

She closed the shop early that night and we walked away, 'Court's Cupcakes' flashing brightly. She cursed however, before running back in and shutting off the one light she had forgotten, the one that flashed saying 'Come in early for some of Duncan's Donuts'.

Yes, I know, I am a quite the sap.

* * *

><p>I can't really tell you when my life actually started.<p>

But I'd like to believe it was when she first borrowed my flour.

* * *

><p><em>I love you<em>

_Can't you see?_

_Yeah,_

_You stole my heart in_

_1_

_2_

_3_

_I love you_

_Yes, _

_It's true, yeah_

_You stole my heart_

_And I'm gonna steal yours too._

* * *

><p>-fin-<p> 


	4. Call me

_This is technically a repost. This one-shot was deleted about a year ago off the site and I have just recently got to putting it back up, instead inside this story. I genuinely liked this story and I decided to add a little bit more to it as well as fix a few things before posting it to this story. Since it was a marginally old one-shot from 2010, you probably never even read it! _

_Please enjoy!_

* * *

><p><strong>-Call Me-<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Because then –holy shit- she was kissing me.<em>

* * *

><p>Make what you want of it, but I can confirm that there is nothing quite as addicting as a girl who says no.<p>

Maybe it's the way that her lips pursed, or the way she spat her words at me and gave me glares that held a threat but weren't all that scary. There were reasons that people found Courtney attractive, and the number one reason was the reason for everything- because, sometimes, she could be a total bitch.

Yeah, that's right- guys like a girl who won't give into them. Why do you think I put up with her? If I wasn't up for a good challenge, I would have left her alone already and gone for that one girl who keeps giving me air kisses during health class.

Not to say that I gave up on other girls completely: that's why I was in this situation right now. "Duncan _motherfucking_ Montgomery!" Jess was very pretty and **very** good in bed, which was why I had actually felt a bit bad about not calling her back a month ago. Maybe then I wouldn't be running down the darkening street, trying to get away from a girl who was only 5'4. But that was the problem with me- I loved women, but calling them back and picking up missed calls… not so much.

I just don't like calling girls back. After the sex, they don't mean much. I don't really want to talk to them anymore. Calling someone is so... not me.

It wasn't as though I set out to be a player. It just kind of happened, and it's not like I was always trying to get girls in bed with me! They would always ask me out, and I would be nice, and I would say yes, and then they'd be all, 'Why don't we go back to my place?' And then we would go to 'their place' and they would push me up against the bed, and at that point there didn't seem to be much room for argument, not that I wanted to. I don't go out seeking sex.

Sex comes to me. It finds me. And it calls me to it. And who am I to avoid a call?

Oh, WAIT.

"Why didn't you ever call me back?" Jess has light green eyes and wears a lot of purple. She twirls her brown hair in her fingers a lot. Right now, she's giving me a death glare and has tears running down her face. "I didn't believe what everyone told me- I thought you were special!"

See? Same thing, over and over! They all say the same thing, but each time the immense amount of guilt feels new and fresh and cuts me all the same. "I'm sorry." I know I'm supposed to be like those guys in the movies who give some big speech about how much better she is than me, about how she deserves so much better than me, but the words get all tangled up behind my lower lip and she just starts sobbing, nods and walks back down the street.

And this is the part that no one ever knows about, you see? They all see me as _that guy, _the one who makes your daughter cry and who would fuck anything with two legs, and they don't see this guy, this one right here, the one who is holding his head in his hands because this is life. This is all life is for me, and it hurts because I'm not completely heartless. I do have a soul.

But it doesn't really matter, because I'm that guy. The guy no one wants to be with forever.

That's why I like Courtney. That's why. She came into school one day looking like a freaking goddess and I even gave her the wink, and she did **nothing**. As I said before, I don't seek sex and I don't seek girls. They just come to me. So this was quite a surprise.

I was sure that she probably just hadn't seen my small hints, but I was wrong. When I slid into the seat next to her during study hall, she immediately growled and pushed me away.

Nothing has ever annoyed me more. I never really talked to Courtney, but let's face it, she's attractive. But as the hour dragged on, she was making me lose my control on things. For the first time in I don't know how long, I had to actually start a conversation with a girl. Most girls jump into a talk with me, but Courtney just kind of sat there, throwing me looks that asked when exactly I was planning on going away.

"So… Wassup?" She rolled her eyes, burying her head deeper into her book.

She was _ignoring_ me?

**What**?

I cleared my throat. "Hello?"

She snapped the book shut, picking up her bag. "Goodbye, ogre." She flashed me a fake smile that quickly turned into a grimace, walking out of the library with quick feet and loud steps.

This is why I say it- she's a total bitch. Those were the first words she ever spoke to me. Ever. Her first words were a rude farewell. But I couldn't help but smile to myself, because she was just a _peach_, wasn't she?

It's hard to leave her alone, like, really hard. She stays to herself most of the time, because everyone else knows she's a bitch and that seems perfectly OK with her. But I know that feeling- I only have a few friends too, if only because no really wants to approach me with their girlfriend or because I've _done it_ with their girlfriend…

I couldn't help but sigh a dreamy sigh, because I thought about it more and more and I realized how much she was just like me. Gosh. She was hot. She was a smart ass. And no one really liked her all that much (excluding looks, of course).

Just like me.

Never in my life had I wanted something more than her. I fought for her, oh hell yeah, I fought for her, even if she never asked for it, even if she didn't deserve it. I didn't even do it with that many girls at the time. Actually, the weekly number kept going down and down until it was once a month, to once every three months, to never. I had quit playing with girls. Maybe I was turning into a good guy, or maybe I was just too busy trying to catch Courtney.

One thing she always called me was a whore. She knew who I was- once she had even made me flinch when she called me, 'That guy'. Yeah, it hurt. A lot. But that's why I kept fighting with her- I had to convince her that wasn't me. I was Duncan. Not 'that guy'.

She hated me. It was obvious. I knew it, she knew it, everyone knew it- she was never a girl to keep her feelings bottled up, and she often felt the need to make her opinions public. She was smart- it did help in scaring me off the first few times, but now, even those efforts couldn't scare me away. Chasing her was fun, and it kept me busying, kept me in my place, but most of all, it kept me happy.

If there was one thing she could always make me feel, it was happy.

No matter how many insults she tried to throw at me, it wasn't like Jess, or Chloe, or Alison, or Hannah, or Samantha, or all those other girls. She wasn't sweet, nope, not at all, but she was lovely. Everything about her made me want to just look at her forever and get lost in her. I would never touch her if she would just let me stare at her forever. Those times when she was biting her pencil in thought or applying chap stick or even just tying her shoe, every time she did something, anything, I just wanted to freeze the moment and stay there forever.

And I didn't care how cheesy I was. I told all my pals and _even my Ma_ (I know, my Ma, how crazy of me, right?) that she was a great thing. She was it. She was the one for me. My pals had laughed and my mom had rolled her eyes, but that was the way I wanted it. Let them believe that I was lying- they would probably be scared if they figured out just how truthful I really was.

Courtney made efforts to ignore me, but the day I caught her sneaking a glance at me was the day I mentally exploded. My whole mind melted because I could see it in her eyes, it was great, because even though all the others times I had seen that look, it didn't mean much, this meant the world. This meant that I wasn't just trying and getting nowhere.

It was the look I got all the time. The one that said, 'I like you Duncan.' And it made my blood boil. It was winter time now. But I walked home feeling hot and bothered the whole time.

Again, I was used to things coming to me, but it seemed that Courtney had her pride. She wouldn't stoop that low. She actually didn't mind me hanging around her as much, but I was already in so deep that it didn't really matter anymore. I wanted her and that was basically the end of it.

The guilt for all the other girls was really eased by her. I don't know why, but it was like all of them led me to this, and that was how all the harsh feelings just melted away. With her, I didn't miss anybody, I didn't think about anyone else but her. Because I just wanted her.

But she wasn't just going to come to me. So I decided to ask her. "Wanna go out?" I asked during biology. She shot me an odd look, and I saw the edge of her mouth twitch, like she was trying to hold back a smile.

"No."

And like I said, there is nothing more thrilling than when they say no.

But I'd be lying if I said it didn't break my heart. I'd be lying if I told you that I didn't walk out of school that day and look at all the girls longingly and remembered how much out of my natural habitat that I was. It didn't seem worth it. At least before, I was getting some love, at least for a little while, but now… I wasn't finding anything. No one cared. I had been trying too hard.

I was so close to giving up, and then she walked out of the building and stood beside me and took a deep breath. Her brown hair sheltered her face and she pulled her coat to her tighter as the snow fell around us. And then she grabbed my jacket and I felt my eyes pop open.

Because then –holy shit- she was kissing me.

Courtney was kissing me and she had her arms around my neck and I was kissing right back. Her nose brushed against mine, and I purred into her lips. Because this was something I had been thinking of for a while. And it was better than I could imagine. When she pressed her lips to mine and bit my lip forcefully, I felt my whole chest swell up and I just wanted to freaking cry because I was so happy. I've never been that happy in my whole life. We pulled away from each other but I kept her pressed to me, kept her body against mine because I'd never felt this _warm_.

And yeah, I was convinced that I had to be just a little bit in love with her. Because normal kisses don't feel that good. Normal **anything** doesn't feel that good.

She smiled a little and I found the words to speak. "So can we go on that date?"

Shrugging, she bit her lip, blushing a little. "I don't know."

OK, I take back what I said- there is one thing more addicting than the girl who says no. It's the girl who pretends to hate you but then kisses you and makes your brain turn to mush that I'm really starting to crave.

After an awkward moment, she coughed and stepped out of my embrace. As she started to turn around though it came out as though on impulse. "Can I have your number?"

She turned and gave me a tiny grin. "Why?"

I shrugged. "I wanna call you later."

And I really meant it. As she wrote the number on my hand and walked down the street, her face burning red the whole time, calling someone didn't seem so scary anymore. I sighed as she turned back to face me, giving me a smirk.

I was never gonna miss another call again.

* * *

><p>-fin-<p> 


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